


All Dolled Up For Me

by thispieceofmind



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Crossdressing, D/s, Dirty Talk, M/M, Rimming, Valentine's Day Fic!!, ayayay, does it look like i know, face fucking, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:56:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thispieceofmind/pseuds/thispieceofmind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Valentine's Day, and Harry needs it to be <em>special.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	All Dolled Up For Me

**Author's Note:**

> Guys I wanted to write Valentine's and I wrote Valentine's and it turned into crossdressing.

Most of the time, it’s the ink that sits black on his wrist, _I can’t change_. It used to be the purple, frayed bracelet that sat there. But his favorite time is when a little black band wraps around his finger. It’s seldom present, but a smile that refuses to leave his face is always there when it is. 

Valentine’s Day has always been a thing for them, really. There’s only been two, so far, but the first was quiet and hesitant, because they were still young and new, two vines that had started out separated but were destined to twine together. The next time, they were already joined – inseparable. They were on an infinite high, shining brighter than ever, growing together. They were flitting around Paris, letting love pour out of them even when the cameras were trained on the hearts in their eyes. They kissed on top of the Eiffel Tower and felt small for once when they were suddenly growing so big. And at dinner Louis slipped a band on Harry’s finger and said _mine_. So they were reckless and lovestruck, but bright. It was almost like the the calm before the storm, looking back. 

But there was a storm, in the end, and it’s a year later and Valentine’s Day is still a _thing_. It’s a thing because they’re going to stay inside all day, and Harry’s going to slip the ring right on his middle finger, and it’s going to be a promise that was never broken. And it’s a _thing_ , because when Harry wakes up, – as quietly as he can – he rustles around in his drawer and pulls out his little box with the ring it and slips it on his finger. He furls and unfurls his fingers and smooths a gentle hand over Louis’ face. He slips silently from bed and into the kitchen, turning on his soft music of love songs. He made a playlist, and he knows Louis will call him out for being corny. But he _embraces_ his cheesiness, and figures if he’s going to be cliche he’s got to go all out. 

So, he plays his love songs and decorates the table with little plastic heart sprinkles and bigger ones made from glass. He lights candles and goes to the kitchen, making toast and eggs and for a moment contemplates dyeing them pink, but realizing that they’d probably look gross. He folds napkins next to their plates and thinks that corny works for him. 

Louis emerges just as Harry finishes, and he immediately starts laughing at the explosion of pink everywhere. Harry pouts, but Louis strides his way, curling into his embrace, but still giggles. 

“Haz,” he starts, chuckling into his neck. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time, you cheeseball.”  

“Is it too much?” Harry asks. 

Louis bites his collarbone where his head is resting. “Never too much, darling. I love when you do this. It’s adorable.” 

Harry blushes a little, because Louis has never lost the ability to do that to him, and he kisses the top of his head. “Well, you’re adorable. And come on, we’ve got to eat before it gets cold.” 

Louis stacks the hearts and then messes them up again, smiling at Harry through bites of a runny egg. “Dippy eggs are my favorite. I love when you make it a dippy egg.” 

“I like dippy eggs too; I’m not just pampering you.” 

“Lies,” Louis says as he wipes his face with a pink napkin. “All lies.” He sets his napkin on his plate. “I’m your valentine. It’s your job to pamper me.” 

“Hey, hey, I’ve not asked you to be my valentine yet.”  

“You don’t need to. It’s implied. Now, come on, I want to make out with you on my couch and play with your ring, Valentine.” 

Harry’s happy that he didn’t miss it. 

*** 

Louis is sitting on Harry, and he’s playing with his fingers. His palm is in front of Louis’ face, and he’s looking at blue eyes between the spaces that separate his fingers. Louis’s stuck a heart sticker on Harry’s face, but he’s finally stopped poking at it to trace the lines on his hand and to twist the ring on Harry’s middle finger. It’s black and simple, and Harry thinks Louis loves it on Harry as much as Harry loves it itself. Louis drags his lips across Harry’s fingertips and presses a kiss to the center of his palm. 

“I love you, Valentine,” Louis says against the skin of Harry’s hand. 

“Hmm... that my name now?” 

“No,” Louis drawls, “But you are my valentine, Valentine.” 

“I know.” It’s silent, for a while, just Louis’ lips mapping Harry’s skin on his hands and on his neck and on the very inside of his wrist. “I love you too, by the way.” 

They do make out on the couch for a while, snogging until they can’t breathe and holding each other close, but then Louis has to go out to be seen, which obviously makes sense because it’s Valentine’s Day which really, would much rather be spent in the flash of cameras rather than alone at a peaceful flat, but. 

But he has to go, and he’s promised only an hour and a half, and well, Harry can deal with that. He can definitely deal with that because there’s a bag in the way back of his closet that’s waiting for him, and really, for Louis, too. So he stands in the doorway of their flat for a while and kisses Louis up against the door, letting his hips be squeezed and his mouth be bitten. Louis kisses his palm again before he leaves, saying, “I love you, Valentine,” again, just for good measure, and kissing Harry’s cheek and grabbing his fur-lined coat to go. 

Harry is upset, a little, because he has to go _out_ , and that always makes him upset, but a devilish smirk is on his face as soon as the door slams because in a way, this is the opportunity he was waiting for. 

*** 

Harry is very, very cheesy and he knows it, but he put a path of rose petals from the door to their bed because he can. And when the door swings open, he hears it and jumps a little, but wraps his towel tighter around his waist and swallows hard, swallowing the _what if this goes completely wrong and I look like an idiot_ down with it. He spins the ring on his finger as comfort, because if he listens close enough he hears Louis gasp and then chuckle. 

“Harry, you didn’t,” Louis mutters. Harry can practically see him shaking his head and shucking off his shoes and coat, padding through the flat barefoot, Harry hearing the stick of his feet on the hardwood. He tightens his arms around himself in anticipation, toying with a rose petal in his hand, wondering what Louis will think. This is one of the things they haven’t done, not that they weren’t exploratory. They were. But Harry has never said yes to this. He wants it, he does, but he never knows if he will end up embarrassing himself or not. 

But soon enough Louis is rounding the corner and is in the doorway, looking at the white towel pulled half way up Harry’s torso, displaying his birds boldly on his chest. “Harry?” Louis says. 

“Hi,” Harry mutters, because it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

“Your hair’s not wet,” Louis murmurs, and Harry’s not expecting that next, so he blinks. 

“What?” 

“Your hair, it’s not wet even though you’ve had a shower?” 

Harry coughs a little. “Um, I haven’t had a shower?” Harry mumbles, and it comes out as a question even though it shouldn’t have. Louis waits, then, because he has nothing left to ask and Harry only has things tell. He senses Harry’s nerves, but he does nothing, he knows why Harry’s like this. He’s always like this before something – something _new_. “I–” Harry starts, but then he opts for simply dropping the towel to have it pool around his ankles. Louis’ breath audibly hitches. 

“Harry–” 

The head of Harry’s cock is peeking out of the top of red, lacy knickers, tight around his groin, silky and smooth, wrapping around his arse to press in as a thong. Louis’ jeans tighten and his breath gets heavier. 

“I want you to fuck me, please, but I want you to fuck my mouth first, and then, after, lick me out?”  

“Hmm...” Louis purrs, finally finishing the walk across the room to run a hand down Harry’s chest. “I want, I want, I want, Harry. What about what I want, darling? It isn’t all about you, now. What if I don’t want that?” 

“You don’t?” Harry peeps, suddenly nervous that he did something wrong, that he messed up. 

“No, I do, sweetheart, I do, but this is about me making you fall apart in those pretty little knickers.” Louis kisses up Harry’s neck and trails his hand down to palm Harry once through the silk, the texture smooth against his palm, like Harry’s skin against his lips. “But I’m doing this my way, yeah?”  

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry repeats, already breathless and heavy lidded. “Whatever you want, Lou.” 

“So get on your knees, wanna see you looking up at me. And get your cock back in your fucking knickers, want you to come in them.” 

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, tucking his cock back down under the band of the panties, getting down on his knees with a graceful ease as he’s done this all too many times. “Love your cock, Lou,” Harry says once he’s looking up with bright eyes. 

“I know. Now get it in your mouth, darling, it’s not gonna suck itself.” He pushes his hips forward so the roughness of Louis’ jeans drags across Harry’s lips. Louis peels his shirt over his head, and Harry works at his jeans, popping the button and dragging the zipper down, letting his hands be a little cheeky as he rubs his palms over Louis’ bum to get them off. Louis steps out of his clothes when they’re at his feet, and then Harry’s looking up at him, naked and golden, with his cock trapped in red silk and his mouth matching in color. He skims his lips over the head, teasing, and Louis shoves his fingers in Harry’s hair and yanks him forward. “Harry,” he growls, and a shiver runs through Harry’s spine, and he sucks the head into his mouth, tonguing at the slit just to _taste_ , because he’s got almost a routine for letting Louis fuck his mouth, he’s done it so many times. 

He waits until Louis fingers tighten more in his hair to move away from the head, breathing heavily from his nose and feeling the tightness of the knickers pressing back against his cock, smooth and silky and unlike anything he’s ever worn. He likes it – he likes the softness of it and how _erotic_ and _racy_ it makes him feel. He likes the thrill that runs through him, like he shouldn’t be dressed in girl’s pants, but he is and he likes it and Louis likes it, and it’s– it’s fucking _hot_. 

He bobs his head once, but pays attention to Louis’ inner thighs just for a moment, waiting to hear something from him. He’s been so quiet, and Harry needs reception. He gets a tug on his hair, instead, and Harry bites his thigh and looks up with wide eyes. “Is this good?” Harry asks. “All of it?”  

“Fuck, yeah, Harry,” Louis mutters. “It’s so good, you’re so fucking good. I’m gonna fuck your mouth, and then I’m gonna fuck you, yeah?” 

“Okay, as long it’s good for you, and the whole, the whole knickers thing.” 

“I love it; it’s good.” 

Harry grins, but takes Louis’ cock back into his mouth, taking it as deep as his can and twisting his hand around what he can’t reach. He bobs his head and sucks, mouthing at the head as he comes up and down. Louis scratches his scalp and feels the hot press of his cock on his leg through the thin silk of the knickers, a wet patch forming where Harry’s cock is leaking because he loves this. He loves the way it feels and the way Louis cock touches the back of his throat and the way his fingers curl in his hair. 

He backs off a little and lets the tears sting his eyes, and then Louis is there, hips bucking forward so he’s fucking his mouth, slipping in and out in fast thrusts, Harry doing his best not to choke and splutter, hands rubbing up and down Louis’ thighs as he moves his head with Louis’ thrusts. His hands wander to grip just below Louis’ bum, squeezing lightly as Louis pulls at his hair one last time and comes down his throat with a barely-there warning. Harry suckles at the head for just a while longer until Louis pushes him off, yanking him up off his knees by the hair. He kisses Harry with fervor, holding him close and keeping his hands twisted in Harry’s hair. 

Louis’ hands move from his hair down to his back, and right to his bare bum where the g-string is between his cheeks and pressing against his hole. Louis presses a dry finger against his hole, and Harry bucks against his hip where his cock is still hard in his knickers, tenting against the smooth fabric. Louis moves his finger away and meets Harry’s lusty eyes, eager and hungry for it. 

“How about,” Louis starts, low and right against the shell of Harry’s ear, hand slowly coming around to gently palm Harry through his undies, the material a little foreign to Louis hand with a _cock_ underneath it, but he loves it, he loves it because Harry’s just as bright and flushed as a girl would be, and he’s bashful and blushing like one, too. “How about I eat you out first,” Louis murmurs, “And then I fuck you. You’ll be all loose and wet for me, just like a girl in your pretty knickers.” 

Harry takes a deep breath, shaky, and nods, letting Louis push him back toward their bed surrounded by the blood red petals on the floor. He falls back against their too many pillows and hoists up his knees, but Louis taps him on the hip and he rolls over. “M’not taking them off yet,” Louis says, and he’s just pulling the string of the thong over a little, dipping his finger back into the cleft. “You’re gonna make a mess inside them, Harry. I want you to come in them.” 

“Yeah, okay, I can–” 

“Damn right you can. Now take it. Are you clean for me, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah, always clean for you, Lou.”  

“Good.” 

So Louis starts laying kisses to his lower back, gripping Harry’s hips and holding him close and steady where he holds himself up with his arms. His lips mouth downward, where his cheeks come together, and he licks down the crack to his hole, where his thumbs are already spreading him open, the string pushed to the side and Harry coming apart immediately when Louis presses his lips to his entrance. He sucks, first, because he wants Harry wet, he wants Harry wet in his little knickers, and he knows that Harry likes the way it feels, the closeness, the heat. He flicks his tongue in little licks across Harry’s hole, leaving little kisses there, too. He kisses his thighs and the swell of his bum, pale and smooth, contrasting against the bright red of the pants. His breath washes over Harry’s skin, and he whines, falling to his forearms when Louis licks over him again, nips at his rim. 

“Oh, fuck,” Harry lets out, squirming a little, whining high pitched. 

“You love this,” Louis states, voice muffled as he speaks against Harry’s hole, wet and messy from where he’s licking at it. “You love how wet you get, and how it feels to have a tongue in you. It’s like I’m eating your pussy, but better. You like to know you’re a boy and that I still do this to you, right, darling?” 

“I love it so much, Lou, I love everything you do to me. Your tongue, your cock, your body– fuck.” 

Louis licks another wet, fat stripe over his hole, and Harry rocks back onto him, the need for more and more. His tongue finally pushes past, licking inside him, making his breath heave harder and his heart beat faster. He presses the flat of his tongue against his hole, and then sucks hard. Louis licks at a finger and slides it in next to his tongue, prodding at his prostate and getting him to cry out. 

“Can I come, Lou? Can I? I’ll still let you fuck me, but shit, shit, Lou I–” 

“You can come, Haz, come in those pretty knickers for me. Touch yourself over them.” 

Harry palms himself over the silk as Louis licks another stripe over his hole and blows cool air, and then he’s falling apart, coming into the knickers and making them sticky and messy, collapsing with a deep breath and stars in his eyes. Louis is moving his mouth away, but his finger is still twisting inside of Harry, gentle but insistent as Harry writhes, eyes clenched as a shock is sent through him, white hot like pain and pleasure all at once. 

A pair of lips come against his ear. “Is it too much?” Louis whispers, because sometimes it’s like that – oversensitivity being overbearing, pain overriding pleasure. But it’s not, Harry’s breathing hard and his chest his flushed with red and a hot sweat. He shakes his head and Louis slips him another finger, his other hand holding Harry’s waist and his fingers thumbing the smooth lace. “You look so nice like this, Harry,” Louis murmurs, lips still near the shell of his ear. “All red, just like the lace of these knickers. Gonna fuck you while you’re still all bent over for me. You’re gonna keep those panties on, though, you’re gonna come in them again for me, yeah?”  

“Yeah, yeah, for you, Lou.” 

Louis bites his neck and pushes a third finger in, crooking them up as Harry’s cock starts to fatten up again, his breathing no steadier, but only shocks of pleasure and _Louis_ running through him. He scissors his fingers and spreads Harry open, laying kisses down his back and praising him, telling him how good he is, how good he looks in his little undies. 

“Gonna fuck you now,” he says. He pauses and Harry can hear the smirk in his voice even though is head is hanging with curls falling into his eyes. “ _Valentine_.”  

Harry shudders, and Louis pulls out his fingers, feeling Harry wince, but pushing in his cock soon after, – Harry doesn’t even notice him taking the lube out of the drawer and slicking up his cock, he’s too focused on everything he’s feeling. He brings hips flush with Harry’s arse, and his are hands running down the smooth, pale skin of his back and grabbing his hips. He fucks him hard, the lewd slap of skin on skin filling the room, Harry’s chest rising up and down almost dramatically. Louis hands press hard into Harry’s hipbones, marking his white skin with red that’s bound to bruise. He nips at the knobs of Harry’s spine and kisses down his back, hips finding a rhythm as he fucks into Harry, deep, fast thrusts that wrack his whole body, make his forearms hurt where he’s still resting on them. 

“Fuck, fuck, Lou– It’s feels so good.” 

“You’re so good for me, angel,” Louis murmurs, rubbing up Harry’s back. He bites down on his shoulder. “You’re always so good, doing things for me, wearing those knickers. They make your cheeks look all pink.” 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Harry says, Louis’ nails digging into his hips a little, his thrusts hard into his spot, making his eyes squeeze shut and his hands twist into his pillowcase. His breathing is even more erratic now, his lip all red from where he’s biting it. “Lou, – can you, can you touch me, please. I’m gonna come, I need to come.” 

“You want me to touch you through those pretty knickers? The one’s that you’ve already gotten so dirty, Haz. You made them filthy.” 

“I’m filthy. For you I’m filthy. _Please_ , Lou.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis mutters, grabbing Harry’s cock between his legs in the the thin, wet material of the knickers. He palms him until his legs are shaking and he’s falling apart, coming again into the knickers, the noises pouring out of his mouth making Louis follow not too long after, releasing his free hand’s grip on Harry’s hip and kissing down his neck before pulling out. 

Harry flips onto his back, and Louis curls into him, his arm splayed across Harry’s chest and gently thumbing across his hips where the bruises are. He laughs breathlessly, for a little, but they lay quietly, hearing each other’s breathing and their heartbeats. Harry’s hand eventually finds Louis’ and their fingers tangle, skin soft. 

“You’re incredible, y’know,” Louis says at last. 

Harry snorts. “Why, because I let you fuck me while wearing girl’s knickers?”  

Louis laughs. “Amongst other things.”  

“Well, I liked it, at the least.”  

“Maybe you’ll let me put you in a skirt.” Harry’s breath catches and Louis laughs again. “You’ll be like my groupie.”  

“I basically am, already.” 

Louis lets out another giggle and rests his head on Harry’s chest that’s still rising and falling a little abnormally. “I love you, Valentine. Not just for the sex.” 

It’s Harry’s turn to laugh, and he pets Louis’ hair softly with his free hand. His chest rumbles underneath Louis’ skull. 

“I’d hope so. I love you, too, Lou.”  

“Anyway, I’m hungry. We’re going out after a shower.” 

“We are?” Harry asks. 

“Yeah, now, get up, I need you to wash my hair.” 

Louis springs out of bed, but Harry just sits up confusedly. 

“Where to?” 

“Our _place_.”


End file.
